Chapter 2
1584 Words
2
Orion shrugged. “There’s not really much to tell. The ship comes every thirty-three years, sails up the river three nights in a row, and then disappears.”
I frowned. “And nobody knows why it’s doing this?”
He shook his head. “Not a clue.”
“But it’s early,” Orso spoke up.
Orion turned to him and nodded. “Yeah, by about twelve years, right?”
Orso pursed his lips and looked out over the river. “Yeah. I’ve never heard of it coming early before.”
“How long has it been coming?” I asked them.
Orion shrugged. “About two hundred years.”
I furrowed my brow. “That’s a long time to have a sudden schedule change. And you guys are sure nobody knows why a mast ship is sailing up the river?”
Orion and Orso glanced at each other. Orso sighed. “There’s always the Librarian. He’d know more about its schedule than anyone else.”
Orion nodded. “We’ll get right on it.”
I arched an eyebrow. “We will?”
“Then take this,” Orso advised him. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a receiver. “This’ll tell keep you in touch with everything that’s going on, and it can be used to call dispatch if you find the trouble first.”
Orion took the receiver and grinned. “We’ll make it a race.”
Orso returned the smile, but had to stifle a yawn. “Just don’t get anything snapping at your heels this time, okay?”
“I make no promises,” my erstwhile mate replied as he grabbed my hand and pulled me up the slick hill. “Later!”
“If there is a later,” I quipped.
“Don’t tell me your reporter instincts are gone.”
“They’re-” I slipped and nearly fell, but Orion’s firm hand pulled me to my feet, “-they’re a little frozen right now.”
“The library’s warm,” he pointed out as we crested the slope.
“So is home,” I argued.
Orion stopped and turned so we faced each other. “You really don’t want to look into this, do you?”
I shrugged. “All I know is it’s late, cold, and I’m tired.”
“Well, we’ll fix all of that, but after the trip to the library.” He took my hand and led me down the snowy streets. “Think of it as a favor to the police.”
I snorted. “You mean a favor to the chief. Why isn’t he doing this himself?”
“He’s going to have his hands full calming everyone down,” Orion pointed out. We rounded the end of the street and caught sight of the library two blocks down. “That could take all night. Besides, the were-bears are less-well, less energetic during the winter months.”
“You mean they want to hibernate?” I guessed.
“Pretty much.”
We reached the library and found all the windows aglow with light. The door was unlocked, and at the front desk was the shriveled Librarian. He sat on a stool and was hunched over an ancient tome with yellowed pages. Around him were stacks of books. He didn’t look up as we walked up to the desk.
Orion leaned his elbow on the desk and smiled at the preoccupied old man. “We’d like some information-”
“On the ship,” the Librarian finished for him. The old man’s eyes flickered up and narrowed. “Elbow off the desk, please.”
Orion straightened and coughed into his hand. “This is a little urgent, Librarian. The ship-” The Librarian waved his hand near enough to Orion’s face that Orion jerked back.
“Yes yes, I know. It appeared, and you wish for information on the legend, is that correct?”
Orion smiled and nodded. “Pretty much.”
“It should be in here somewhere. . .” the little man muttered as he browsed the thick bindings of the tomes around him. “Ah-ha!” He grabbed a thin volume that was pinched between two thick books and tugged it out. The black cover was thick with dust brushed in one direction by its removal. The Librarian held the book between his hands and blew off the dust. The gray cloud flew into Orion’s face and made him sneeze. The Librarian held out the book to us. “This is what you need.”
Orion pulled the dust from his face and took the book. “Thanks,” he choked out.
Orion tucked the book securely under his arm, and we turned away and strode toward the front doors.
“And don’t forget it’s due in three days,” the Librarian called out.
Orion paused and half-turned to the keeper of the books. “Three days? The usual checkout is a week.”
A sly smile slipped onto the old man’s pale lips and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “But you won’t be needing that book any longer than that. Good day.” He turned away and began sorting books on a table behind him.
I looked at Orion who shrugged and led us outside. I jerked my head over my shoulder at the retreating library building. “So is that what happens when somebody’s elected by committee?”
“If only anyone could remember when he was appointed to the position,” Orion reminded me.
He paused beneath a streetlight and pulled the book out. I caught sight of the cover: “Famous Ships of Apple Hollow: An Exhaustive Study.”
“You’re not going to read that right now, are you?” I questioned him.
He shrugged and opened to the first page. “Why not?”
I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. “I’ll give you two good reasons, and they’re both low digits.”
He smiled as his eyes scanned the pages. “You could try growing some fur. You need the practice.”
I glared at him. “It’s not easy putting all that hair back in. I ruined two razors the last time I tried to shave my-”
“Here it is,” he spoke up.
Orion tapped his finger on the page. I rolled my eyes and sidled up beside him to look at the page. There was a bolded chapter title and a few short paragraphs. The opposite page showed a hand-drawn picture of the ship emerging from the fog.
Orion read aloud the chapter heading. “The Doomed Ship of Thirty-Three Years.”
I snorted. “That’s self-explanatory.”
His finger followed along with his reading. “The Doomed Ship is a three-masted sailing vessel that was first sighted along the Rumbling River in 1800 when it crashed into the old bridge, destroying the structure, and continued on its way. The vessel always appears from a dense fog and sails up the river some quarter of a mile before it disappears into an upstream fog bank. Nothing has been seen of its crew, nor does anyone know why it sails up the river as the vessel is more in line with those used for ocean-going voyages. All attempts to stop or even board the vessel have been met with failure.”
I glanced over the rest of the words and read them aloud. “Rumors abound about why this ship inhabits the waters. Some have suggested a curse that the ship navigate the world and it happens upon Apple Hollow on its thirty-three year long journey. Others have put forth a more romantic theory of separated lovers, and still more theorize that aliens are involved.” I snorted. “It always has to be about aliens.”
Orion smiled and finished the chapter. “Whatever the reason, the ship sails onward never slowing nor ceasing in its reliable schedule.”
“Until tonight,” I added.
Orion closed the book and pursed his lips. “Yes. I can’t figure out why, and this book was no help.”
A cold wind blew past us and left me shivering. “We can try figuring out this mystery in front of an electric heater with a warm cup of cocoa between our hands.”
His eyes widened and he snapped his fingers. “That’s it! Cocoa!”
I arched a frost-covered eyebrow. “Yes, cocoa. Cocoa good. Being warm good.”
Orion grabbed my hand that was tucked underneath my opposite arm and dragged me toward downtown. “There’s no heater, but I know a great place for cocoa and answers.”
I sighed. “Let me guess, the Spellbinding Food diner.”
He looked over his shoulder and grinned at me. “That’s just the place, and Mab is just the expert on the paranormal that we’re looking for.”
The snowy streets were deserted. All the town was put to bed with visions of sailing masts dancing in their heads. We reached the street on which sat Mab’s diner and caught sight of the food place.
Orion stopped so fast I tripped and fell into his side. “This better not be more werewolf practice,” I growled as I straightened myself.
He stared straight ahead with his lips pursed. I followed his gaze and saw it fell on Mab’s place. The interior was dark.
Orion let go of me and hurried forward. I stumbled after him across the slush and ice of the road. He stopped at the front door and I came up beside him.
On the inside of the door hung a Closed sign, and on the outside was taped a small white envelope. Orion’s name was scribbled on the back.
He tore the envelope off and pulled out a folded piece of paper. On the surface was the following handwritten letter:
Orion,
I have gone to find someone. Do not look for me, I will find you.
- Mab
I glanced up into Orion’s tense face. “So I’m guessing this is bad.”
He folded the note and tucked both envelope and paper into his pocket as he shook his head. “I don’t know, but I do know Mab’s never closed her diner.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Never?”
“Never.”
I frowned and looked at the Closed sign. “She was open pretty fast after that car crashed into the place, wasn’t she?”
He nodded. “Within a few minutes after the investigation. Mab has a knack for cleaning up trouble.”
I turned to him and nodded at his pocket that held the note. “Looks like she’s found some that won’t disappear at the wave of her cat paw.”
The sound of a child’s scream interrupted our conversation, and our lives.
- Writer
